


Fire

by RZZMG



Series: Weasley slash couple stories [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beach Sex, Bill-Ficathon Fic & Art Fest, Biting, Bonding, Caretaking, Dominant!Bill, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fate & Destiny, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Male Slash, Nightclub Trolling, Oral Sex, Rape Recovery, Romance, Scars, Submissive!Draco, Werewolf Senses, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:30:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4921396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RZZMG/pseuds/RZZMG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Fenrir Greyback's death, Bill Weasley's been different. His wife divorced him and moved out, his children were taken from him, and he has become a man bent on hedonistic self-destruction as a result – much as Greyback had been. </p><p>Bill's self-loathing and self-doubt are tested, however, by his new-found relationship with Draco Malfoy. The blond who played a role in Bill's initial lycanthropy infection ironically also survived an attack by Greyback in the years after the war, and now Malfoy is seeking someone to be his Lykaion – his dominant Alpha pack leader. </p><p>Can Bill become the man he was meant to be –the man he and Draco need him to be– before it's too late for both of them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my 2013 Bill-Ficathon Fest (bill-ficathon.livejournal.com) entry. The fest is over and reveals are out, so now I can post this for you here. This fanfic is multi-chaptered, but is already finished. I will post a chapter up every week until it's done. Here was the prompt I worked from:
> 
> PROMPT: Draco Malfoy; Werewolves mate by the light of the full moon. Werewolf bite victims just get excessively horny; fluff & lovey smut.  
> TIMELINE: Post-Hogwarts, EWE (year: 2005).
> 
> Thank you to my beta goddess and wonderful friend, Unseenlibrarian! 
> 
> Thank you to the Mod for putting on this fest again. I really had fun trying something new and was challenged by the prompt!
> 
> NOTES:  
> "Leikos" = Greek for "wolf".  
> "Lykaios" = Greek for "wolfish/wolf-like".  
> "Lykaion" = A mountain in Greece, known as "Wolf Mountain".  
> "Lyka" = Greek root word for "wolf".  
> For the sake of this fic, I have decided a Lykaion is the term for an Alpha male werewolf and 'Lyka' is the term for a werewolf who is either a Beta, a member of the middle order, or an Omega within the pack structure (can be male or female).

At half-past ten, Bill heads out the door of Shell Cottage. He leaves his jacket behind on its wall peg; the club will be too hot for it, and anyway, he's determined that tonight, he's going to do some serious grinding with someone and doesn't want too many clothes in the way.

As he prepares to Apparate away from the soothing sounds of the ocean outside his front door to head into the noisy bustle of London proper, he feels that hot, tight catch in his chest at the thought of once again clutching silky, platinum hair in his fist.

Tonight, there's a full moon, and he's determined that he's going to taste the sweat on Draco Malfoy's throat as he fucks him raw.

And, afterwards…?

He knows what the other man really wants, but shit, it's too big an issue to consider right now. Bill's just not ready to think about the possibility. Besides, he's not sure he can be what Draco wants beyond just what's on the surface.

Sex he can give, though – give it good and hard. He can deliver those goods and then some.

Maybe that'll be enough for both of them.

* * *

 

Draco has waited for the rising of this night's moon since the last time it was full with monstrous anticipation, denying himself the pleasure of indulging in some private time with his hand in the hopes that  _he_  will be back at their little playground for another round of flirtation, frotting, and kissing… and maybe more.

Perhaps tonight, Draco will get lucky and finally be able to seduce William Weasley into coming home with him to his flat.

Every Saturday for the last three weeks, he and the eldest Weasley son have met at the Muggle nightclub, Fire, in Soho. They've shared gin from the same glass, stroked against each other with their shirts off while a heavy beat throbbed around them, shaking the walls with its deep bass, and they've tasted the liquor and lust on each other's tongues. They've rubbed their hard erections together through their tight pants while leaning against walls or bar stools. But the trousers have always stayed on and their hands have never drifted to bare skin beneath belts, and there's been nothing but sexual frustration in the aftermath.

Not tonight, he vows. Tonight, things change between them one way or another… because, truthfully, Draco's sick of feeling so alone, so unwanted. He's tired of being someone without a purpose or a reason. It's hard to get up every morning, and at night, he stares at his ceiling with a sense of hopelessness that no amount of drinking can chase away.

He needs what only William can give him.

If only the stubborn fool would see the truth staring him in the eye every time he looks in a mirror!

Well, tonight Draco's going to change everything between them with three simple words. Tonight, he's remaking his life - and William Weasley's.


	2. Chapter 2

The party at Fire is just beginning to burn up the air when Bill spots that familiar shock of sugar-white hair coming through the front archway. His heart speeds up as his unsuspecting prey steps to the side and looks around, his grey, impassive gaze taking in as much as he can see from his vantage point.

It is always a game of seek-and-find between them at this place, but it's usually worth the half-hour or so it takes them to connect, because Bill uses the time to stalk Draco without the other man's knowledge.

He's had enough of such games, though. It's time to take this obsession and ratchet it up a notch. Bill's horny as hell, and he wants to shag Draco's ever-loving brains out tonight.

As he shoves his way through the tightly-packed throng of dancers drunk on adrenaline and alcohol, he notes the curious gazes that stare a little too long. He ignores it the best he can, used to it by now. He's well aware that the three slashing scars across his left cheek have marred his looks, but no amount of cream, potion, pill, or healing spell has ever been able to smooth the skin back into place and hide the marks.

But those disfiguring wounds aren't the only cause for the interest he receives, he knows. It's his eyes that capture attention, too – one a normal, very human shade of blue, the other an eerie gold that reflects light when he is in dimly-lit situations (like at a nightclub), as a canine's eyes are known to do. For some as-yet-unidentified reason, his left eye changed the moment Fenrir Greyback had been killed post-war by Aurors while trying to evade capture. Bill had felt the man's death even across the miles of ocean and a continent separating them. The pain had been instant and sharp, and he'd cried blood out of that one eye for a whole week. When he'd removed the bandage on the seventh day, he'd gotten the shock of his life, noting the colour change… noting the predatory gleam in that cursed eye.

That was when Fleur had left him, taking Victoire, Dominique, and Louis, just three-months-old then, with her. The divorce papers had arrived two weeks later. Bill had signed them without even reading them, despondent that his wife had thought him a monster.

He has been living alone ever since - a dangerous, unstable place for a man already on the edge.

The loss of his mate and his pack, coupled with the long hours of silence and the subsequent loneliness has taken its toll on him over the long months. It's made Bill act out in ways he'd have never considered before. Like piercing his nipples and his tongue, and getting some ink on his arms and back. Like taking up smoking Kretek, drinking to excess, trying illicit potions, and checking out the hard-core BDSM scene. Like sexually experimenting with both men and women.

Like chasing after a man ten years younger than him, who had once been a Death Eater – and coincidentally, responsible for Greyback's appearance at the Astronomy Tower on the night of Dumbledore's death. The night Bill's life forever changed.

He knows that for months he's been driving towards an edge from which there is no coming back. Truthfully, a part of him wants to ditch Draco tonight and continue down that path towards self-destruction, but another part –the one that is just beginning to wake up and look around at the decent side of life with interest again– sees the possibilities of Draco's interference in his plans… and it longs for what is being offered.

The two opposing desires war inside Bill's head and heart, but it is as if he is being driven by some unconscious instinct, for no matter his hesitation and doubt, his feet keep moving forward.

As he makes a bee-line for the Malfoy heir, he wonders again what his intended target thinks of his deformities. More importantly, he ponders why a man has handsome and sexy as Draco is attracted to  _him._  Are the scars and the eye freakishly interesting to the younger man, or is it the draw of Bill's inner beast, which is so close to the surface now, that interests Draco? Is that the allure? Or is it because he and Draco share the tragic, pathetic tale of surviving a lycanthrope attack and misery likes company?

Maybe it has nothing to do with any of those things, and everything to do with the on-going hatred between the Malfoy patriarch and Bill's father. Maybe Draco is rebelling against Lucius' edicts. Maybe he wants a taste of 'forbidden fruit' just once in his life – a chance to walk on the wild side, as it were.

Bill wonders which, if any, of those reasons is the cause for the younger man's sudden, sexual interest, because there are so many other reasons why they shouldn't be doing what they are.

* * *

 

Leaning against the outer wall to wait, Draco knows William is already here, somewhere amongst the mass of writhing, undulating bodies. He can smell the scent of the man's clove cigarettes even through the scent of perspiration, unwashed bodies, foul, intoxicated breath, and desperate sexual need. He can feel that eye on him – the one he sees in his dreams at night. And he can feel William's inner wolf stalking the room as a tingle across his brain.

Pack always calls to pack, and Draco is helpless to its pull once more.

Heart pounding in his mouth, he closes his eyes and whispers, "Lykaion, I'm here."

Heat curls along his spine as he senses that William has stopped cold in the middle of the room, having heard Draco's acknowledgement of his submissive status in those three simple words – that, despite the distracting music, the obnoxious laughter, and the mindless pap that passes for stimulating conversation in this place. The magic of wolves makes such a connection possible between them… that and so much more.

He can feel the immediate answering vibration of William's dark excitement and his unspoken eagerness pulse through the air. It resolves as a crackling of energy at the nape of Draco's neck and a tingle at the tips of his fingers. Even without seeing him, he can hear the dominant male's reply over the blaring noise surrounding them:

"Stay there."

As he feels William approaching him with relentless determination now, shoving people aside without care, Draco goes steel hard in his slacks. He leans back into the wall to collect his nerves, and tries to keep passers-by from touching him too intimately. He is feeling a bit too randy and out of control at the moment, still struggling against his newly-acquired affliction to keep the beast inside him at bay, and he has been anticipating this night for weeks, wanting to know how the sway of the full moon would affect their desire for one another.

Based on how his body is reacting now -panting and perspiring, heart racing, shivering with need- clearly, this will be a night he will never forget.


	3. Chapter 3

Close now.

He is so close to Draco that Bill can practically taste the other man's heartbeat in his mouth. The scent of Draco's desperation is a rich, fiery musk in Bill's nose. It calls to him, urging him forward.

Bill knows from experience that an inexplicable preternatural connection is established every time he is near enough to another Were to see, hear, or smell them. This psychic link is innate to those with lycanthropy. No matter the degree of the other person's affliction –whether they are Leikos, fully werewolf, or whether they are Lykaios, like Bill and Draco who both suffer werewolf traits, but thankfully avoid a monthly transformation– there is an automatic awareness of the other's presence when they are within range. It is as if Mother Nature has designed an early-warning system in shape-shifting species, to assure her predators will always be alerted to one another, to prevent possible territorial disputes or to hail the arrival of a potential mate.

From Bill's viewpoint, this bizarre intuition closely resembles a form of Legilimency, only without the need to cast a spell, and it is wholly uncontrollable. It is an automatic firing of all five senses – times a million, but it is specifically concentrated on the invading lycanthrope. The best way Bill can describe it is to compare it to looking down a long, narrow pipe at one of his kind standing at the other end. Their voice is amplified when they speak. The angles of their face and body, and their expressions and gestures are magnified for easy tracking. Their scent intensifies to warn you of their intentions. You are aware of all of these things, while at the same time, you are still cognizant that the world outside the pipe exists, even if it is somewhat muted.

In the nine years since the Battle of the Astronomy Tower, Bill has run into exactly two Weres that were true shifters, claws and all –Fenrir Greyback and Remus Lupin– and three others that were like him, all younger males around Ron's age – other survivors of a Fenrir attack during the war. With every single one of them, that extraordinary link existed and it triggered his need to assert his dominance through violence, but  _never_ has he felt compelled to fuck at the same time. He feels such a thing for Draco Malfoy, though. The man is the fourth hybrid he's met…and Bill is just discovering what real Were-lust tastes like for the first time.

His would-be lover referred to him as 'Lykaion' – the term given to an Alpha male werewolf. It means Draco has submitted to him as the Dominant between them, accepting the role of Lyka - the lesser dominant in the relationship. The idea makes Bill's animal side positively smug and very pleased, but his human side particularly uncomfortable, for there comes with the title an obligation of care-taking of Draco beyond just tonight. If Bill accepts the designation, he accepts forming a pack with Draco, and that means bringing the other man into his life on a permanent basis, and assuring to Draco's safety from other lycanthropes.

Can he do such a thing?

Bill's not sure. He was devastated by Fleur's leaving and taking their children, breaking their pack apart. It shook up his faith in himself.

If he can't even keep a wife at his side, how is he expected to care for a man who doesn't live with him?

A true Alpha wouldn't hesitate in such a decision, would they? They'd just take what they wanted. After all, that's what Fenrir had done.

But then, the voice of reason within reminds Bill that Greyback wasn't a true Lykaion.

Two years after the war, Bill had done some research on his hated maker and on his cursed condition, needing to understand what had been done to him. He'd ended up in Gaerwen, discovering that Fenrir had been an Omega within the resident pack there, but had left them because he'd refused to conform. Without an Alpha and a group to guide him once he'd gone rogue. Over the year, all alone, the man had embraced his animal wildness, wantonly engaging in bestial behaviours. Doing so had changed him. It had made him mad for blood and flesh, turning him cannibal - and  _that_  had altered his appearance.

Sure, Fenrir could have attempted to join another pack or form one of his own, but clearly, he hadn't wanted that, preferring to 'lone wolf' it. He'd become a savage brute as a result, slaking his hunger and infecting countless others with lycanthropy, all out of spite. He'd cursed innocents in revenge for having been cursed himself.

A Lykaion of strength could have reined him in.

Honestly, Bill is worried that he is becoming too much like Fenrir in his loneliness. His left eye constantly reminds him that he isn't wholly human anymore. In time, without a pack, will he become like Greyback? The thought terrifies him. But is he strong enough to take on the role of Lykaion to stave off that possibility?

It is a question that torments Bill now that Draco has begun to refer to him in such a manner.

He parts the last line of revelers and Draco is suddenly before him, clad in midnight –black mesh shirt, black leather pants, black dress shoes– and smelling just as enticing as a Scottish glade deep in the forest at night. His lovely, pale skin and platinum hair are beacons of light to contradict his shadows, but those beautiful grey eyes the colour of December skies are still closed off to him. A small smile graces Draco's tempting lips, though, as if he knows he has been found at last and is relieved.

Their bodies stand only a foot or so apart, but the heat they both give off is a small inferno – a by-product of the full moon's hold on them tonight.

Bill is jostled by someone in the crowd and shoved into Draco. His arms shoot out to either side to catch himself, coincidentally caging his intended lover between them. The move is advantageous, as the small space creates an intimacy bubble. Bill uses this to his benefit, pressing in close.

Running his nose up Draco's jaw, he takes a deep inhale through his nose, filling his lungs with the man's natural body scent. Bill despises perfumes and colognes, as they mask the real fragrance of a person and fill the air with that flowery shite that always makes him want to sneeze. Thankfully, Draco doesn't employ such pretense. He smells of clean skin… and extreme sexual need. The combination makes Bill's mouth water, and he gives a deep, resonating hum of appreciation.

"Submit to me," he demands without preamble, letting a bit of the beast within slip into his voice. He may not accept the role of Lykaion, but he is still more dominant in temperament than Draco, and an Alpha never asks for compliance from one lesser than he, or he risks a challenge to his authority. That much Bill has learned from his research.

Without hesitation, Draco turns his head and drops his arms, offering Bill his throat and his belly, signaling surrender in the way of wolves. His easy, willing acquiescence has Bill's dick going as hard as marble in his pants. He drops his hips forward and rubs against Draco's pelvis, feeling the man's answering arousal.

"You came back here just for this, didn't you?" he asked, provocatively stroking a hand over Draco's trouser bulge. "You want me to fuck you."

Draco's long, dark gold lashes crack open, and those pretty, arctic-coloured eyes stare at him askance. "Yes."

Bill snarls, pressing his forehead to Draco's. "Yes, what, whelp?"

Throat convulsing, Draco whispers, "Yes. I want this. Want you to have me."

Grinning triumphantly, Bill lifts his head and lets out a howl, uncaring of the Muggles around them hearing, or what they must think. He has waited three weeks for this, and he is going to bask in the victory of his intended's concession.

Dropping his mouth back down, he presses it to Draco's ears.  _"Mine,"_  he growls in a promise that also serves as a warning. Before he can stop, his instincts take over and he bends his mouth to the cradle of Draco's throat and bites down over his pulse. It's not hard enough of a grip to mark –only a Lykaion may mark another wolf as his– but it is enough of a hold to signal his dominance and his interest in sex in the way of wolves.

His partner gasps, a small, pleasure-filled sob escaping his lips. His hands, so elegant and strong, grip Bill's hips and hold on.

They stand like that for a long while, Bill suckling and kissing at the tender flesh of Draco's throat, careful not to mark, but sampling all the same. When he's made his point, Bill lets his hands roam every inch of Draco's clothed body and shifts to capture his mouth instead, stoking the fire of their identical need with thrusting tongue and fierce kisses. He even goes so far as to unbutton and unzip Draco's leather trousers so he can slide his hands under the band and caress the firm globes of the smaller man's arse.

With the crowd packed in so tightly, it is impossible for them to do more, but Bill wants it. He wants to turn Draco around right there and have him against the wall, pounding into him until he comes so deep, so true that he experiences a knot, as he's heard that only a Lykaion experiences during sex. He's never felt that before, but tonight… God, tonight, he'd really love to.

Forcibly pulling his mouth away from the succulent, sweet skin of Draco's lips, he realizes things are about to go nova between them, and so reins them in. "We're leaving," he states in a tone that will brook no argument, re-buttoning Draco's trousers, and pulling back up the zip. "Take my hand and don't let go."

Draco does as bid, slipping his sweaty palm against Bill's.

Leading the way out, Bill pulls his lover after him through the multitude of 'weekend warriors', noting that he's not the only one to leave the joint with the specific intention of finding a private spot to shag like hell, as many couples –and sometimes three or four together– exit the club holding hands, eager, hedonistic expressions etched upon their kiss-swollen lips and rouged cheeks. The full moon's influence has captured many tonight.

As the cool night air hits him, Bill heads without pause towards the closest Apparition point, two blocks away. His stride is fast, but thankfully Draco keeps up without difficulty.

* * *

 

Draco wonders where William is taking him for their first time.

Underneath his excitement, he admit that he's nervous - terribly so. He's had sex with men before, but that had been before his attack. Before his scars.

He feels he should tell his Lykaion the truth, but is scared shitless to do so, honestly. What if William turns him away?

Perhaps he can arrange it so he's in shadow when their pants come off instead. Perhaps William won't see the real extent of what was done to him…

They reach the Apparition point before he can come up with a solid plan, and then he is once more in William's arms, and they are away with a crack of thunder and in a blinding light. Draco holds onto William, pressing his face into the other man's shoulder to keep from becoming too dizzy from the sudden jolting and compression the spell creates.

When they arrive at their destination with a jarring stop, at first Draco can only hear the sound of his and William's hearts pounding in their chests and his own ragged breathing. Then, the muted sounds of the world shift back into phase, and he hears… the ocean.

The sound of small waves crashing onto the shore from nearby is a comforting roar in the background, and the smell of the salty, fresh breeze tickles his nostrils as he takes a deep lungful of air. It combines with William's earthy, musky scent, making him feel a bit more at ease.

Being outdoors, away from the city, has a calming effect upon him.

He shifts, and notices his leather-shod soles sink a bit, and he realises he is standing in soft sand. In automatic reaction, he tries to move, to find a more solid patch of land to step upon, but William's arms around him tighten, stopping him.

"Still. Don't move."

Draco forces his tense muscles to relax and sinks back into William's embrace. The man stands a few inches taller than Draco, and he is bulkier, and strangely, it feels good to be the shorter, smaller one for a change.

They stand there, unmoving for long moments, just holding on and taking ease from simply touching one another – something every lycanthrope (or would-be, in his and William's case) enjoys. They are both warm, despite the breeze, their tainted blood elevating their temperatures above normal during this time of the month. Above them, the moon's full face illuminates the world in soft light.

When William begins nuzzling him again, Draco's relaxed enough and fully on-board. His earlier uneasiness has thawed… and he understands that this has been his Alpha's purpose in slowing things down between them. Somehow, William felt Draco's fear, and actually cared enough not to plough over them, but to patiently wait them out.

As their lips meet in a melting kiss, their tongues peek out and caress. William is handling him so gently now, and it feels good enough for Draco to fully let go and let this happen. As he is taken down to his knees and laid back in the sand, everything feels right.


	4. Chapter 4

Assured that his younger lover is comfortable, and that the earlier rattles that had shaken him are now eased, William progresses with his intentions.

Truthfully, he'd needed as much as calming down as Draco, his inner wolf nearly biting past his controls to ravage and take. A part of him may have wanted rough, hard sex, but Bill had known if he'd done so, it would have been too close to rape, and Draco would never be his again. And he wanted there to be a next time for them. And a time after that, and so on, because somehow he knew that one night wouldn't be enough.

Beneath him, Draco moaned as their mouths danced.

"Touch me," Bill instructed his younger lover. "As you want, touch me."

Granted such permission, Draco lets loose his inhibitions. He curls around Bill, his arms wrapping around Bill's shoulders and sinking into his long, unbound hair, his thighs going loose and wide so his legs can cradle Bill's larger body.

God, they fit so well. Standing up or lying down, their bodies are just the right height and just the right size so their curves and angles are complimentary. They are perfectly matched for sex.

The kissing grows more intense, and soon a ravenous desire once more beats in Bill's heart, letting loose some of the wild within him. Clothes are stripped off without much finesse, as desperation for skin to skin contact burns through them both.

As Draco's trousers are taken down, and a webbing network of scars come into view, his young lover loses his arousal in an instant, and his body begins shaking again, this time with dread and anxiety. Slowing down, Bill meets the man's hesitation head-on with cool composure, unflinching as an Alpha should when facing trauma. With a tender touch, he lets his fingers trace the reddish-pink marks that mar Draco's upper thighs and groin area, learning their shape and size, finding the pattern in the grooves… putting two-and-two together.

Instinctively, Bill knows who had been responsible for marking up Draco's beautiful body, as Fenrir had tried something similar with Bill that night during the battle at Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower, when Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder had filled the corridors and Bill had been caught unawares and dragged to the floor by Greyback's strength. Only luck and good timing had saved him that night; he'd disabused the rutting wolf of his ultimate intentions with a nasty knee to his bollocks when the opportunity had presented itself, knocking Fenrir off of him long enough for Bill to scurry for his wand on the floor. He'd barely kept himself from being raped and possibly murdered with that quick bit of thinking… but he'd paid for it with a set of his own scars, and a curse that would stay with him the rest of his life.

As Bill's hands near Draco's pelvis, his young lover's breathing accelerates. "Relax," he tells Draco. "I won't hurt you."

Shutting his eyes, Draco nods and does as required, although his brow is furrowed and he chews his bottom lip. His cheeks are crimson with embarrassment and his whole body taunt and trembling.

Taking Draco's half-hard cock in his hand, Bill gently traces over the pale, hooded length, mapping out one long scar that begins at the base and moves upwards. Draco's lower body flinches and his hands clench in the sand, seeking to hold onto something solid in the earth beneath them.

Lifting the length of soft flesh, Bill continues to follow that ragged-edged mark down the underside, and over the tight, firm pouch underneath. Fortunately, the scar terminates at the hilt and no further damage mars Draco's body, but he can feel the man's embarrassment all the same.

Bill lets his eyes wander, taking in every bit of the damage on and around the area. It isn't ugly, not really. The scars are a year or so old and they're healing well. In time, they'll be white stripes that will be barely noticeable against the backdrop of such pale skin. But Bill knows that it's not necessarily the outside of an injury that does the most harm to the survivor.

"Don't move," he commands Draco. "Trust me."

Again, that platinum head nods, but the eyes don't open. Bill wants to see Draco's beautiful gaze staring right into his soul when he goes down on him the first time, but he won't push this, Alpha or not. Some things, the human side of him knows, shouldn't be forced.

He drops his head and licks every inch of Draco's sex, bathing it with his warm saliva, willing a healing to happen. Under him, Draco groans, and his breath saws in and out of his lungs. Under Bill's focussed attentions, once more Draco grows hard and long. Bill sucks the emerging tip between his lips, drawing salty pre-come to the surface. The flavour and texture is incredible, and he wants more… wants everything. He groans as he takes that length of delicious meat into the depths of his mouth and twirls his tongue around it, sucking hard on the pull up.

"Oh, God!" Draco curses in a breathy gasp, his shaking morphing from that of panic and fear into that of desire. "Lykaion!"

Bill gives his young lover pleasure as he has never done for another. Yeah, he's had his dick sucked, but he's never been the one giving the blow, and he learns it is a heady sensation to own someone so completely in such an erotic manner. It is also satisfying to know that he's helping Draco to overcome his demons. It feels as if he were  _meant_ to guide his young lover in this manner, as if it was his responsibility. He feels a wave of protectiveness overcome him as he cradles Draco's lovely, scarred cock between his lips and strokes soothingly over the man's scored thighs.

Is this what a Lykaion would do for his Lyka? Shit, it feels like it. What does this mean for them?

"Oh, fuck!" Draco hisses. His hands clamp down on his outer thighs, needing more solid purchase. "I'm going to… I can't stop!"

Bill can hear the anticipation melded with alarm in Draco's voice, and to calm him, he reaches out and twines their fingers together, giving the other man permission to let go. "Look at me when you come," he commands, and drops back down to suck harder and at a faster pace.

Their eyes meet as finally his lover's lids peel back. Draco's mouth falls open as well, as if he is surprised to see Bill, the man he calls his Dominant, between his legs,  _giving_  pleasure to him rather than  _taking_  it.

Draco's chest pumps up and down as if he were running a marathon. His neck comes off the sand as he curls his mid-section and clenches his arse, getting ready to spill over. Face tight in an expression of rapture and anguish, he plants his heels and thrusts upwards into Bill's mouth with a loud cry.

Bill holds tight to his partner, swallowing the streams of creamy fluid that flood his mouth in surges. He has tasted his own come, and so knows what to expect, but he still struggles to drink Draco's release down as quickly as possible. There is so much come  _–so much!–_ as if Draco hasn't climaxed in months. It's quite possible, Bill realises as the spasms finally fade and Draco goes limp all around him, that the younger man  _hasn't_ come since Fenrir's attack, just before the werewolf's death.

When he finally pulls his mouth away, wiping it with a hand, he stares down at Draco and sees him for the first time in a light he never has before.

Draco is smiling.

Not the wicked, come-get-me smile he's always shown Bill at Fire, or the smirk that has haunted Bill's wank fantasies for weeks, but the kind of smile that pulls at Bill's heart and makes him warm in a different manner. It is a feeling he hasn't felt in… oh, a long, long time. It reminds him of the first time he'd asked Fleur out for coffee.

* * *

 

Draco's mind is blown.

Is this, he wonders, what it feels like to exist in an hourglass? The sand under him is warm, but he feels as if it's slipping away, and then he's floating and falling all at once. It's a magnificent feeling, not at all as disconcerting as he'd expected.

He's done it. He's actually had sex again. And he's come. It feels as if he hasn't done such a normal thing in… forever.

It's too much.

The years of social shunning after the war, and then the months of isolation after his attack, as everyone still remaining near him (aside from his mother) has pulled away, afraid of tainting their "pure blood" by association with someone only marginally infected by Lycanthropy. Now to have found someone who understands what it's like to have survived an attack by that bastard, Greyback,  _and_  with whom he's sexually compatible,  _and_ who is patient, caring, sexy, and gorgeous… It doesn't matter that William's a Weasley, or that he's friends with Harry Potter and that ilk, or that he works for the goblins, or that he's tainted, too. All that matters is someone finally cares for him – a man worthy to be his Lykaion. Draco won't be condemned to be alone for the rest of his life now! He has a pack with William, even if it is only a pack of two.

It's too much.

Covering his eyes with an arm slung over his head, Draco fights to keep his tears from being seen. He's embarrassed by how pussy  _–_ how really, truly Omega _–_ he is.

William's mouth kissing every scar on his thighs and scrotum bring Draco's world to a standstill.

"Lykaion?"

His lover doesn't reply, but each pull of skin, each lick begins to work a kind of magic on Draco's senses, heightened as they are due to the full moon's appearance. He is tired, but his flagging cock slowly begins to harden again, his refractory period suddenly shortened by the returning flood of desire.

His Alpha glances at his straining member, and then up at him. Rubbing his tears from his cheeks, Draco stares down at the other man's handsome, scarred face and once again, their souls seem to connect.

"I'm going to have you now." Bill is utterly confident in his assertion, leaving no room for Draco to deny him, even if he'd wanted to.

Which he doesn't.

His heart starts drumming once more under his ribs. He licks his lips to wet them. William stretches up and over him until they are face-to-face. The man's one gold eye flares with heat, and an unspoken demand. "Kiss me first."

"Yes, Lykaion," Draco immediately responds, feeling that  _rightness_  to his submission to this man flow over him once more.

William bends his head and their lips connect, and it is a jolt to Draco's system again. Unconsciously, his hands return to smoothing the silky, red hair that falls past William's shoulders, sliding through the strands. He loves the curtain it makes as it flows over them, brushing against his cheeks and tickling his collarbone.

There is a stroke across his dick, then another, and then William drops his hips a bit more, and they are rubbing naked, hot flesh together. It feels incredible! He whimpers into William's mouth and strains his pelvis upwards so the pressure is harder.

With a gasp, he breaks the kiss and looks down between them. It is slick between them as they leak pre-come all over each other, and Draco's belly feels that familiar hollowness in it that signals he wants more.

William suddenly pulls off of him and crawls backwards, reaching for his discarded, dark jeans and extracting his wand from a magically deep pocket. "Turn over and get on your knees for me, Draco," he directs him in a low, but commanding, tone.

Draco hastens to do as requested, giving his back to William. He feels the cool, ocean breeze upon his exposed skin, and shivers.

Behind him, he feels William brush the sand off of him, and then a finger probes his tight hole and he tries to relax. Draco tells himself that he wants to be taken by William in this manner for their first time, as he knows it'll be easier. He wants to be William's in all ways, just as he's been fantasizing about since they first recognised each other at Fire weeks before. He wants to be penetrated by the only man he's ever felt truly deserved to be called his Dominant.

Most of all, he wants to know he can do this and not think of Fenrir holding him down and taking him in this position. He wants be okay with fucking again. He needs this.

He closes his eyes and whispers, "William," as his lover's finger pushes through the clenched ring, opening him up.


	5. Chapter 5

Bill hears Draco call his real name in such a reverent, trusting tone, and it makes his heart skip a beat.

"Hold still," he instructs, aiming his wand tip at the tiny hole where he's gently thrusting one, now two fingers in and out. Non-verbally, he summons a lubricating charm and Draco gasps as the cool, silky liquid enters him and slicks him up.

Dropping his wand onto the pile of their clothes, Bill continues stretching Draco open, inserting a third finger after a while. When he is confident that his young lover is ready, Bill kneels behind him and positions his cock head at Draco's entrance. He slides the slippery length of his dick once through Draco's cheeks, and then presses home.

Upon his entry, Draco cries out… and it is not a good sound.

Bill stops. "Relax for me," he soothes, reaching up with his clean hand to stroke across his lover's back and to card through the back of his hair. "Relax, Draco."

Draco drops his head, letting it hang. His voice is a tortured whisper when he pleads, "Don't let me think of  _him_. Please talk to me while you… while we... Please!"

The truth slams into Bill like a sledgehammer to his chest. Now he knows why there were so many scars on Draco's thighs – because Greyback secured his hold there.

Gently, he pulls Draco up on his knees so his back is pressed to Bill's chest, securing him with an arm around his torso. Leaning his mouth to Draco's ear, Bill speaks in a soft voice. "You're with me, Draco. I'm here." He presses kisses to his lover's throat. "I won't hurt you. I'll never hurt you." He strokes over Draco's cock from behind, feeling the softening member go hard again. "Trust me to make you feel good.  _Trust me."_

Still an inch embedded into Draco, he takes the other man down with him as he lowers himself to sit on his heels. Taken by gravity, Draco's slick arse slips downward to take in Bill's shaft as he sits on his lap. They join… and become one.

Both men are panting heavily as they stop and wait for Draco's small, tight body to accommodate Bill's thick cock. All the while, Bill continues to whisper encouragements to his partner, and fists the man's dick in his palm, gliding up and down.

"You feel so good, Draco. Ride me," he urges. "Ride me to your pleasure, and I'll find mine."

With small, mewling gasps, and with aid from Bill's hands both firmly planted now on his hips, Draco begins to move up and down at a pace he likes.

"Stroke your cock at the same time," Bill persuades, and Draco takes himself in hand and does exactly that. He makes adorable grunting and growly noises with each bouncing plunge downward.

God, it's amazing! Draco is so perfectly tight, but the lubricating spell has made him slippery enough for it not to hurt either man. Bill is eager to come, but forcibly reminds himself to not only think of himself this time. He wants this to be an experience that Draco will never forget, and in a good way.

Bill licks up and down Draco's spine and nips the nape of his neck as his lover rides him with growing abandon. He keeps his hands firmly on Draco's hips to help guide him as the pace increases and the tension builds.

"Going to come," Draco gasps. "Oh, shit! William, I'm going to come!"

"That's it, yes. Come for me," Bill spurs him on, gritting his back teeth to keep from exploding. "Come hard and call for me again."

Draco does, shouting in pleasure, arching his back and spurting hot ejaculate all over the sand before him. It drips down their combined hands as Bill eases up his hold on one hip and reached out to clasp his palm over Draco's.

"That's it," Bill croons as Draco slumps against him, exhausted, panting, and shaking. "Just relax."

***/*/*/*/***

Draco has never felt such a high in his life. He's come twice in an hour, this time while riding a man's cock – _William's_  cock– and he's flying now. The universe could literally fall apart around him, and he knows he wouldn't care, just so long as he and his Alpha were together for it.

God, is this what love feels like? He thinks so. Draco's never felt it before, but he knows that what he's feeling isn't how he's ever felt about anyone after sex, not even before his attack. He feels somehow… bonded… to William now. Yes, bonded is the right word. They are pack, but so much more than that, too. He feels like he's found home.

Maybe it has something to do with sharing such a profound experience with someone who obviously cares for him. Or maybe it has to do with William helping him to face his fears. Or maybe it has to do with having the greatest sex of his life and the flood of chemicals such a thing pumps through his body. Perhaps it's all of that combined. Whatever the cause, whatever the outcome of tonight, and even if he never tells William the truth, Draco will cherish this moment, right here, right this second, as the most important moment of his adult life. It is a turning point, and he knows it will define him for the remainder of his years.

When William shifts under him, tipping him forward back onto his hands and knees, holding him with an arm around his waist, Draco realises for the first time that Bill hasn't come yet.

Mounting him from behind, Bill grabs hold of Draco's hips and cants forward, burying his cock deeper into Draco's body. Both of them moan from the pleasure. Bill's mouth is at Draco's ear as he begins to move. "You're so fucking tight, it's killing me. God, Draco," he gasps, pumping faster, "I could… _hunh_ … I could stay buried in you forever. This feels so right."

"Yes," Draco sobs, loving the feel of being taken by this man behind him. He's no longer afraid of this act, and his desire now is to have Bill spill inside him – to feel that moment when his Alpha becomes his, too. His arms shake as he is rocked back and forth, Bill thrusting into him now with full, thick strokes, each driving surge bringing so much pleasure to his body and heart that Draco feels full to bursting from it.

"Take me! Make me yours!" he cries with rapture.

* * *

 

Bill's wolfish growl echoes across the night, mingling with Draco's howl, and his hold on Draco's hips tightens.

Something in him comes loose, rises up… recognises its true self.

He roars as his inner wolf takes its rightful place in his life, shoving aside all hesitation and doubt, finding its place at long last.

"You  _are_ mine," he rumbles, his breath a hot animal upon Draco's throat as he bends his mouth to that tender flesh. "Mine from now on. I am your Lykaion, and I say  _you are mine!"_

He brands the claim and the promise that goes with it by clamping his teeth down on Draco's throat and biting hard, breaking skin – marking his younger lover as his in every way that matters. He comes in that moment, filling Draco with hot, wet seed. The ecstasy is so great that Bill's eyes roll back in his head.

The magic of their shared curse ignites… and evolves.

Bill shuts his lids in utter ecstasy as he comes, letting go and transforming. He becomes more than Alpha, more than himself. Warmth infuses every cell in his body, centering as a swirling heat within his right eye. Suddenly, he can feel Draco in him and under him, can sense his relief, his pleasure and his contentment. He knows Draco's dreams, and his desires. He reads the blond's heart and just  _knows_   _everything._

They've bonded.

They are pack.

Bill lifts his head, tilts his face towards the full moon above, and lets out a triumphant howl.


	6. Epilogue

_**Epilogue – Seven months later…** _

Draco is curled up on Bill's couch, snuggled under a bed-sized quilt sewn for Bill when he was fifteen by his mother, Molly. He is soaking up the warmth of the fire in the nearby hearth after being outside for so long today.

A small smile hovers over his lips as he replays the scene earlier that afternoon in his mind: running along the shore line, playing 'Catch Me If You Can' with his Lykaion.

Reaching up, he strokes over the renewed bite wound on his throat. It's still throbbing, and his arse is sore, too, but the aches are good, and he has no regrets - especially for purposefully slowing down there at the end of their game.

No, absolutely no regrets whatsoever.

Six months ago, he'd left behind practically everything he was –his name, his expensive flat overlooking Hyde Park, his fine clothing, his reputation (not that it had been worth much back then), and most importantly, his arrogance and his prejudices– and moved into Shell Cottage at William  _–Bill's–_  request. He'd started over and begun a new life for himself.

In the months since, Draco has worked hard to acknowledge his curse, to accept his past, and to embrace his wolfish side. He has made new, tentative friends of Bill's brothers, and even Potter, who have accepted him and his role in Bill's life. And he has a new career path at the Ministry working alongside Granger for Werewolf Rights legislation.

Further, he and Bill have become full-time lovers, and they've started a pack of their own. It is now five members strong. No one else lives with Bill and Draco, but they stop in frequently enough to make it feel as if they ought to move in. Still, Bill doesn't demand such a thing, quite permissive on the subject of the very human need for personal space where other Lykaion in other packs across Europe tend not to be, he's learned.

Currently, Draco is comfortable with his position as Lykaia within the pack, the chosen mate of their Alpha. He knows that, eventually, Bill may feel a desire to copulate with one of the two females in their group, but he doesn't feel threatened by that possibility. In fact, he's quite okay with the idea, beginning to feel that pull towards wanting a child of his own. He and Bill have discussed the issue in-depth, and what it would mean to recreate the wolf mating hierarchy, so there is more than one breeding pair. They plan to talk to the other members of the pack about it at the next weekly sit-down dinner.

Overall, Draco has never been so at peace with himself or his life.

"Here." William rounds the sofa, coming to sit at his side. He holds out a steaming mug of tea for Draco. "To warm yourself."

Draco takes it and the heat transfers through the ceramic mug to his fingertips. It feels good. "Thank you."

Bill leans back into the cushions and stares off into the fire, his matching set of golden eyes gleaming in the firelight. Draco watches him, as he always seems to do, and is mesmerized once again by Bill's beauty. That flaming red hair, that strong, stubborn chin, those full, tempting lips…

Setting his mug down on the table next to the couch, Draco shifts under the quilt, dragging it with him as he settles in Bill's lap. "How about  _you_  warm me up instead?" he teases with a smirk.

Automatically, his lover's arms come around him and they cuddle together before the fire.

As he lies in Bill's embrace, Draco closes his eyes and recalls his desperate gamble that last time they'd visited Fire seven months earlier. He'd bucked up his miniscule amount of courage and had gone through with his plan, uttering the three simple words that night that he'd practised over and over again in front of his mirror at home before going out:  _"Lykaion, I'm here."_

Wouldn't you know it, it had worked. Despite Draco's shitty luck, it had actually worked! Now he has everything he's ever wanted. He is warm, he is loved, and he is part of something bigger than himself. He has a purpose to get up every morning, and a reason to come back every night.

He is home.

* * *

 

As Bill holds his lover to him, that familiar sense of rightness comes over him again.

He'd been so foolish to have fought against this – his fate. He's been destined to be Lykaion from the start; his one golden eye has always been the clue there, but Bill's been so filled with his own personal reservations that he hasn't paid attention. His research into lycanthropy had hinted that when a Lykaion is ready to ascend to the leadership role of a pack, not only do his senses heighten again –creating a strong psychic bond with those destined to be his pack– but his eyes change colour, too.

Fenrir Greyback's eyes had always been blue; the outcast had never been Lykaion material, as Bill had always known. Still, Bill had worried that he, too, was the same… especially since Greyback had 'made' him, and he'd remained blue-eyed on both sides until Greyback's death.

What he's now realized over the last seven months of self-exploration that he's been mentally blocking himself from ascending to Lykaion, his personal fears and self-doubt holding him back. Mother Nature may have provides the means for lycanthropes to find each other, but the magic of shape-shifting is sensitive to the wizard's or witch's will. He's been blocking his own Dominance.

With Greyback's demise, Bill has felt himself begin to shift, to change. He's had to adapt to the loss of Fleur and his children to survive. It has made him stronger, more Alpha.

And then Draco came into his life. The man has been searching for a Lykaion since his attack a year ago, after being thrown out of his ancestral home and disinherited by his father, and shunned by his remaining friends for being 'tainted' by lycanthropy. After their first meeting at Fire, Draco had believed he'd found what he'd needed in Bill, and had returned every week to the nightclub to reinforce that belief; it hadn't just been about their sexual chemistry.

Bill, of course, had sensed what Draco had wanted, but he'd been too uncertain that he'd been up to the challenge. It had taken his caring about another –to deeply care for the welfare and pleasure of Draco– for Bill to man-up and accept his rightful place. When he had, he'd become a true Lykaion.

He reaches out now with his Alpha senses and reads Draco's emotional grid. Bill smiles.

"Let's take a bath," he suggests to his lover. "It'll warm you up even more, and I'm not sure I got all of the sand off of you after this afternoon."

It is, of course, a fib. The moon is full again tonight, and although the sun isn't completely below the horizon yet, Bill is already feeling incredibly horny.

Against him, Draco chuckles. "I'd much prefer a tongue bath," he teases.

Bill growls, liking the idea. "Impudent Lyka," he playfully chastises and cards his hand through Draco's sugar-soft hair. "I should spank your arse for such backtalk."

Draco turns his head and nuzzles Bill's throat. "Promise?"

Bill knows that the Omega of the pack is frequently the one to goad the others. If Draco were not his chosen Lykaia, that would be his natural role.

Perhaps it is time to remind Draco of such a thing… while he is pinned under Bill's thrusting body.

Settling his hands under Draco's legs and against his back, Bill uses his preternatural strength to lift his lover and turn them, so they're lying across the couch, with Bill on top – right where he belongs.

As he cradles his body between Draco's legs, and that familiar spark of lust ignites in his belly, Bill decides that he wants his young lover just like this, in front of the fire, where they can smolder and burn together once more.

_**~FIN~** _


End file.
